


say the words and sign our names

by wintercreek



Category: Stargate Atlantis
Genre: M/M, Marriage
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2008-11-11
Updated: 2008-11-11
Packaged: 2017-10-02 06:48:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,245
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3690
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wintercreek/pseuds/wintercreek
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"It's not that it'll change anything really, we have all the paperwork in place and Keller wouldn't dream of denying either of us visiting rights, and all of Atlantis knows, and, frankly, we're both far too valuable to the SGC for anyone to raise a real stink."  Rodney looks at his shoes, hands still at his sides, then meets John's eyes squarely.  "It's just that it would change everything, in the best way."</p>
            </blockquote>





	say the words and sign our names

**Author's Note:**

> In response to [Keith Olberman's response to the passage of Prop 8](http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=1HpTBF6EfxY). Title is from Vienna Teng's City Hall, a song response to the [San Francisco same-sex marriages of February 2004](http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/San_Francisco_2004_same-sex_weddings). Where there's love, there's hope.

This has to be the craziest thing John's ever done. It's not as though he has a great track record with these things, and it's not like Rodney does either. They're on leave from the Mountain for forty-eight hours, of which John expected to spend four on the golf course, eight eating, and the remaining thirty-six engaged in various activities that do not involve wearing pants (sleeping, sex, messing around on the internet, baiting Rodney). Rodney, predictably, has a different plan.

"Did you know that California is trying their hand at actual equality yet again?" Rodney's bouncing on the balls of his feet, which never means a restful day is ahead.

"Mmm," John murmurs, hoping to communicate that he's not really listening.

"And did you know that you don't have to be a California resident to get married there? Whose resident are you, anyway? What's the last state you lived in?"

"I- Rodney. What are you up to?"

Rodney flushes. "Well. It's just that I. I mean, we could have gone to my country at any time, but it seemed more meaningful to do it in your country, fight the good fight and all that, and really, you _do_ seem like such a California guy, so I suppose it's only fitting that-"

"_Rodney._ _What_ are you trying to say?" John normally finds Rodney's babbling somewhere between charming and tolerable, but he's got a sinking feeling in his stomach this time that needs to be stopped.

Rodney clears his throat and says, quietly, "Well. I was, I was wondering if you'd like to marry me?"

John stares at him.

"Since I'm in love with you and all. I thought it might make sense." He's plainly unnerved by John's silence, so he carries on, "It's been years, John, years since DADT was ended, years of us. And I thought, I just thought. It's not that it'll change anything really, we have all the paperwork in place and Keller wouldn't dream of denying either of us visiting rights, and all of Atlantis knows, and, frankly, we're both far too valuable to the SGC for anyone to raise a real stink." Rodney looks at his shoes, hands still at his sides, then meets John's eyes squarely. "It's just that it would change everything, in the best way."

John's set to argue. In his experience, marriage changes everything in the worst way, makes you stop trying, makes you roommates more than lovers and turns the sniping mean. He tries to picture Rodney standing where Nancy used to in the kitchen, arms folded and eyes cold. He can't. Rodney would never stand there and stare him down; Rodney would shout and wave his arms and badger John in to some sort of truth and then kiss him and call him ridiculous. Rodney doesn't - _can't_ \- ignore problems. He finds them, teases them out, fixes them. It's maybe not Rodney's fault that no one's ever fixed John before.

Rodney's still waiting, and there's another difference because all his hope and his fear is right out on his face. He's not pushing with it; he's just so honest about this that it hurts. John sighs and shakes his head and says softly, "And what if it doesn't work?"

"It will work. How many times have I saved us all from utter disaster just under the clock? How often do you make me work my ass off to stop the city from blowing up, to get a ship working, to build an atomic bomb? After all that, _John_. How could I not make this work too? You think you're going to ask me for something I can't give, but I give you the impossible every time you ask."

It's true. It's all true. "What about me? What if _I_ can't give _you_ the impossible?"

Rodney cuffs him lightly on the back of the head. "I'll make you. Even if we had a heterosexual societally-normed relationship we'd still have only a 50/50 chance of success, statistically, but I'd like to remind you that I beat the odds almost every time. Look, I wish we had more time to stand here and indulge your insecurities, but our flight for San Francisco leaves in three hours. Grab your bag; we'll argue on the plane."

It's really done from the moment John takes his ticket from Rodney's hand. Rodney wins, of course, which comforts John more than it should but leaves him feeling dazed as they walk up the steps of San Francisco's City Hall. He guesses that this isn't so different from all the other times he's stood up uncomfortably for what's really important - saying "no" to Rodney would have been like leaving someone behind. Leaving _Rodney_ behind, because it was clear from the moment he asked that there was no going back from here. Rodney's made them an appointment with a justice using the clerk's office website ("Of _course_ you did." "It's the most sensible thing I've seen yet! Very efficient.") and the marriage license can be paid for with a debit card, thank God, because neither of them have any Earth cash. John's gripped by doubt as he writes down the ending date of his previous marriage, but Rodney's hand is warm on the small of his back.

Later John won't remember anything that was said. He'll remember that he almost dropped the pen signing the damn license, that Rodney's kiss at the end of it all rocked him back on his heels. He'll remember watching Rodney smirk and pull a pair of rings from his pocket, John's perfectly sized ("I measured your finger while you were sleeping. What?"). He'll remember thinking that Rodney's right, that this doesn't change anything except that it changes everything.

He'll think that this moment, this decision, this look in Rodney's eyes, this dopey smile on his face - these are the things he'll get to keep, no matter what comes.

There is no golf involved in John's leave, but there are six hours of eating, one hour of wedding, ten hours of traveling, not a lot of sleep, one awkward-but-happy phone call to Jeannie, half an hour of debate over whether to call Dave ("No." "But-" "Maybe later."), way too much time spent sending emails to everyone Rodney's ever wanted to spite with the hotness of his trophy spouse, and a lot of honeymoon sex. They spend most of it without pants.

On their first mission back, _another_ beautiful chieftain's daughter hangs herself on John's arm and smiles winningly and John gets to say, "Hey, let me introduce you to my husband." Five missions in to their marriage Rodney's called back to Earth to consult on something; when he's shot in the leg John thanks every deity he's ever heard of as he shoves his spousal visitation rights in the face of the SGC's medical wing and sleeps folded over, half in an unforgiving guest chair and half on Rodney's bed. Three months later they have their largest fight ever in the middle of the conference room; it may be their first married fight, but it still sounds just like them. On their first anniversary, John claims to have forgotten it (really, he's just been paralyzed by gift-choosing indecision) and Rodney gives him a _look_ and concludes, "Well, I guess you're giving me a blowjob, then." Later that night, John admits to Rodney that it's all been totally worth it. In the end, it's about deciding to take the chance.


End file.
